


twelve seconds to midnight

by AMazeofCold (CarterReid)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Depression, F/M, Force-Sensitive Finn (Star Wars), Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Poe Dameron, M/M, Oblivious Finn (Star Wars), One Shot, POV Poe Dameron, Pining, Poe Dameron Hurts So Prettily, Poe Dameron Is A Mess, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:26:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27625378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarterReid/pseuds/AMazeofCold
Summary: Loving Finn is hard, but it's the easiest thing he's ever done.Loving Finn is easy, but it's the hardest thing he's ever had to endure.
Relationships: Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	twelve seconds to midnight

**Author's Note:**

> a quick little one-shot that refused to go away. 
> 
> all the pining and a bucket load of angst and a boat full of unhealthy coping mechanisms, so proceed with caution if that isn't for you my lovelies.
> 
> (be gentle pleases and thank yous, it's my first time with FinnPoe + #nobeta + speed writing + no sleep + lol, messy life).
> 
> Enjoy, be safe and be kind,  
> -R.

Loving Finn is hard. 

_Lie._

Loving Finn is easy. It's easier than breathing. It lives in him, swims in his veins, demands nothing of him save that his heart continue to beat for someone else. Loving Finn feels like warm, sleepy mornings and cool, fresh nights. It's waking up on Yavin IV, it's falling asleep under a bed of stars, it's living in the cockpit of _Black One_. It's the best parts of him. 

_It's the worst_. 

Because loving Finn is _painful_. It's thorns in his chest, it's vines around his throat, it's a punch to the gut and a blow to the head. It's air in his lungs but a mouth overflowing with water. 

Like everything, Poe _fell_. He walked himself right up to the cliff edge, watching the ground crumble beneath his feet and he jumped. He may not have chosen to love Finn, but he embraced it on the way down. How could he not? Someone as _good,_ as _soulful_ , as _brilliant_ as his best friend? It would take a Sith to look Finn in the eyes and say they felt nothing for the former Trooper turned General. 

Which is why it hurts. 

It's his own fault. 

After, _after_ , when the hugs just weren't enough and the ale had all been drunk. When the night turned cold and people began to notice the gaps. When the Resistance couldn't hide their dead behind the sheer relief of the First Order, the Sith, _Palpatine_ , being gone, Poe had hoped he might have Finn there. He'd hoped that, amongst the calamity of carving out a future from whatever remained, his best friend, the _love-of-his-life,_ might just linger long enough to help shoulder his pain. It was a selfish thought, he knew, and Finn deserved more than being a comforting presence for a man as hollowed out and broken as Poe. A man who'd done things, _seen things_ that would have sent any decent man mad. But Poe had screamed himself awake enough at the sound of Snap dying, of his pilots falling around him, or of Kylo Ren _prying_ his head open, gleeful as he did, to let that selfish, treacherous idea fester in his mind.

(He'd tried to walk it off, once, a handful of days after Exegol. It had been dark, the base haloed by lighting that needed replacing and the half light of Ajan Kloss' twin moons, and he'd walked and walked and walked, pausing only twice. The first, in front of Finn's quarters. He didn't go in. He didn't knock. He just stood and let the voices in his head call him a coward, a weakling, a broken thing. The second was just out of sight, on a corner between the mess and the hanger, staring at Karé. She was washed out and pale, tears on her face, chest heaving with emotions he couldn't comprehend. He didn't approach her. _What would he say_?

~~He still had Finn.~~

Finn was still alive.)

Poe knows he's cracking. The responsibility hangs about his shoulders like a weighted cloak and never before has he been so _sure_ that he's nothing like Leia, that he can't do this, than the days after their victory.

Then Rey announces she's going. First to Tatooine, then _beyond_ , to find - to **found** \- a new generation of Jedi. 

It's important work, no doubt, but when Finn makes the announcement he'll be joining her, Poe cracks wide open.

"Only if it's okay," Finn adds, glancing at Poe uncertainly. Poe wants to say no, to demand Finn stay with him, stay on Ajan Kloss and help piece together whatever he can - _he's a General for kriffssake -_ but Poe can't be selfish when the _want_ is bleeding from his friend. 

"Of course buddy," he replied, throat like sandpaper and chest hollow.

There's a moment, when Poe thinks Finn sees. That the facade, hiding pain and guilt and fatigue and _empty_ isn't enough. Then the man smiles, a sunny thing that takes out Poe's knees, and he claps him once on the shoulder. "Thanks Poe."

Poe nods, not trusting himself to speak, and pretends that it doesn't claw at his chest like a rabid animal. 

He pretends that seeing them together doesn't burn. 

Later, Rey affirms their plans and makes an off-hand comment about how _good_ it will be. How they can train together, and that having **two** Force-sensitive people trying to build up the Jedi is much better than one. Poe's reaction is too much to hide and Rey winces. 

"I thought he told you," she comments, half guilty, but clearly too excited to really feel bad. 

"Musta slipped his mind," Poe says, hoarse. 

He pretends his heart doesn't break that Finn wasn't the one to tell him. 

He pretends a lot of things, now, he thinks.

The day they leave, Poe's busy. There are reports to file, requests for meetings, delegations to organise, the base is good but its not permanent and they need that now, he thinks, _permanence_. He's still writing condolences, still ordering recon missions and authorising flights to other star systems. People are asking for time off, for time away, and to never be called on again. He's spent most of the morning answering holos and trying to learn diplomacy as he practices it. There are people he's never heard of demanding things of him he can't give as if they _can_ , as if, nine months ago, they didn't ignore the Resistance's pleas for aid. Warlords are weighing in, planets are demanding representation and, as Leia's handpicked successor, he's expected to emulate her. 

(As if anyone can.)

He doesn't remember the last time he ate - _yesterday, perhaps_ \- and a single sniff tells him that he's well past using the fresher. Poe hasn't got much sleep. His nights are filled with nightmares and, now Rey and Finn are trying to plan how best to reestablish the Jedi Order, they're often talking into the night. There's no Finn to hold him while he shakes and tell him that Ren can't hurt him anymore.

He tries to remember that today is the day, he does, but he's just so busy. When the knock on his door comes with a furrowed brow and a tight: " _I thought you were going to see Rey and Finn off_?" it hits him all at once. 

"They -"

"Prepping the Falcon," comes the reply and Poe's on his feet in an instant. 

He doesn't remember the walk, but it feels like the gallows. 

"And here I thought you'd forgotten about little old us," Rey grins when she sees him, packing up the last of their things. Beebee-Ate is hovering anxiously by her ankles. 

_Oh_ , he remembers, _they're going too_.

"Not yet," he manages to quip back, accepting her hug. It's brief and Rey hesitates for a split second. 

Then Finn's there. Finn, _his_ Finn, wrapped in Poe's old patched-up jacket and smiling wide. 

Rey grins - blinding like the sun - and nudges Finn. His laugh echoes around the hanger, and Poe's being pulled into a hug. 

Poe breaths him in, filling the cracks in his soul with as much of Finn as he can - 

_while he can_. 

"You all right?" Finn asks. 

_No,_ Poe thinks _, no, I'm breaking into pieces and I need you to stay, I need you to be here with me because I'm dying and I love you and I need you, please, Finn, see me -_

"Fine," he says, letting the former stormtrooper break the hug. 

Finn grins.

He grins, and Poe can't help that the knife drives in a little deeper. He feels it twist because Finn, he should **see** , he should **_know_** , but instead his gaze is back to Rey. It lingers and all Poe can hear is that half shouted _"I never told you -"_ in the cave in what feels like a lifetime ago. He aches because his heart is breaking as he watches his _person_ , his _best-friend_ , his _General_ , the one person who believed in him, drift away - beginning a journey that Poe can't walk too. 

He pretends that once Finn and Rey have flown the Falcon off the planet, towards their future filled with Jedi and the _Force_ , that he'll ever see them again.

After all, who would come back to _this_? A run-down, struggling, group bleeding people and gasping its last breaths, held together by stubbornness and every ounce of strength Poe had left.

After all, who would come back to **him**?

"Have fun," he manages, drowning on air. 

Finn rolls his eyes, slaps him once on the arm and bounds away. He's ready to go, to be amongst the stars, and its oh-so- _obvious_ that he's excited about his future. There's a reluctant warmth in his core because seeing Finn so happy is all he's ever wanted for the man. And if Finn's happiness means he'll be alone, that his love will go unanswered and unknown, then that's the price he has to pay.

"See you soon Poe," he hollers over his shoulder. Beebee-Ate beeps his goodbye, nudges him once in the shin and then rolls away, speeding up the ramp and disappearing from view. A hiss of hydraulics and the Falcon's sealed. 

Poe sees Rey at the controls and watches her navigate away. 

He stands in the hanger, eyes pinned to the horizon, long after they've disappeared from view. He knows what little he had left of his heart has just been ground into dust. 

Finn left him. _Finn left him_. _**Finn left him**_ _._

 _He picked **her**_. 

"General?" a voice calls, breaking his spiral. 

And that what he is now. 

A General. 

**The** General. 

The **_only_** General.

"Yeah," he nods, turning, ignoring the pity in the gazes of those around him. 

_they know, they know, they know,_ is a tattoo on his heart. 

He squares his shoulders, pushes down the cotton clogging up his chest, and clears his throat. "Yeah," he repeated, clearer this time, accepting the communicator offered to him, falling in step -

falling in line. 

He feelsadrift and empty, but **worse** because now the loss of Finn is everywhere. It's in the mess, the hanger, the common areas, even the med-bay. It's a gaping wound and Poe screams himself awake so often he forgets what it's like to sleep. 

He's wasting away.

He wonders if he should do something about that.

Time blurs. 

He works hard, too hard, for little rewards. People are stubborn and brutish and despite everything they've achieved together, won't work alongside one another. It drives Poe mad. Every step forward is followed by three backwards. He gets too many reports from people he doesn't care about and not enough from those he does. He needs help but there isn't enough around. His people - _Leia's people_ \- are tired. 

They just want to go home.

And Poe? Poe's not going to stop them. He signs off on more and more discharges. More vacations and time away. Slip after slip he signs. They thank him with bright, eager smiles, or with something soft and sad, grateful they can finally grieve in peace. 

Poe's envious.

But he works. He puts it aside and grinds away, chipping at the list until it looks manageable and biting back groans when he wakes from three hours to find it overflowing once more. Still he rises, determined not to let Leia down, determined to make all this _worth_ something. 

He doesn't know how long its been since Finn's been gone when Karé pulls him aside. 

"You're fading," she accuses. There's no bite, only fact. Poe doesn't have the heart to argue. 

"Aren't we all?"

She frowns, concern bleeding into her expression then. "What do you need?"

Poe barely hesitates. "Finn," he says with a shrug. 

Karé blinks, like she's surprised. "I heard you weren't answering his comms."

Poe tilts his head to one side. To him the answer is obvious. "He left me," he replies. He's past bitter now, he just _is_. "He left me to be happy." He pauses. "He's happy now."

"Poe-" her voice is brimming with fear and worry.

"Did he not sound happy?"

She tries to lie. "He sounded concerned."

Poe manages to bark out a laugh. It sounds as hollow as he fells and it sticks in his throat on the way out. "But happy."

Her gaze skitters away. "Yeah," she confesses, as though the word hurts.

"Then it's enough."

"Not for you," she adds, fire and fury.

"I say it is," Poe replies. He leaves then.

It's as he walks past the X-wings, he realises he hadn't flown since Exegol. He's been in ships, of course, but never in the pilot's seat. The crack in his chest opens a little wider when he realises he doesn't want to.

He realises he hasn't cried since Finn told him he was leaving. 

He doesn't want to do that either. 

His room is cold and dark. There aren't many things on the walls anymore and whatever had once belonged to Finn is long gone. It's not where he wants to work, but with Karé's words simmering beneath his skin, it's the one place he knows he won't be disturbed. 

He's not surprised that when he next surfaces for air, there are missing calls on his Comlink and a note to say that Finn and Rey are on their way back. Karé always had a knack for meddling. Apparently, it's been almost ten months since they left and Poe's surprised he managed one, let alone ten. 

"You need help," is her only defence when he finds her later that day - _week? he's not sure -_ lingering in the hanger, waiting. They're landing soon, he knows. 

"I didn't know you were cruel," is Poe's reply. She opens her mouth, in defence, perhaps, or to rebuke him. Probably to tell him about how she would kill to see Snap again, even for just a moment, but she's cut off by the roar of engines and the slightly clumsy landing of the Falcon. 

They turn together to see the ramp descend and Poe is greeted with the first look of Finn in nearly a year. 

He looks good. 

Healthy. 

Safe. 

Strong. 

He's not wearing Poe's jacket.

_He's not wearing Poe's jacket._

**He's not wearing Poe's jacket.**

And when Rey jumps down the ramp, landing neatly by Finn's side, raising a hand and waving in Poe's direction, Finn's gaze - _on her, it's always on her_ \- is not one of longing, it's one of contentment. It's one of a man fulfilled in life. 

"Oh," Karé breaths, turning to speak, to apologise maybe, because she sees it too. 

But Poe is already walking away.

Away from Finn.

Away from Rey.

Away from their twin looks of hurt and confusion. 

Because he's a General now. _The only General._

And he doesn't have time to babysit the Jedi today.

**Author's Note:**

> *regrets everything* 
> 
> -R.


End file.
